Some Futile Hope by Luxa

---

Part Two: Chapter Thirteen

Elrond finally gets the reunion he's ached for.

---

Second Age, April 13th, 1700. 11:12 P.M.

He could see the stars now; during the battle the smoke had been too thick. Now when Elrond looked up he was greeted with white twinkling on black instead of a gray haze.

As always, his eyes were drawn to one in particular.

"Are you watching me?" he murmured. "Are you happy with how I've turned out? Were you scared for me while I fought?"

The star didn't answer. It never did.

"Elrond!"

That voice. Valar, that voice. He spun on his heel and nearly lost his balance. He didn't care. He finished the turn and saw his King for the first time in five years.

His King wasn't being very kingly. As Elrond watched, Gil-galad dismounted his horse so fast he nearly fell to the ground. He still managed to slip in the mud as he sprinted towards Elrond, blood-spattered armor unable to dampen the grin on his face.

His face. Tired and worn, but undeniably his. Elrond was smiling too now, not as big as Gil-galad's, but just as heartfelt. He stepped forward hesitantly, lip trembling, hesitant despite himself.

Gil-galad skidded to a halt in front of his lover, smile flickering as he saw Elrond's restraint.

"Well," said Ereinion. "What are you waiting for?"

And then they were kissing. Elrond could not have told you who moved first, just that their mouths were pressed together and Elrond's arms were thrown around Gil-galad's neck, pulling him closer. Ereinion's mouth tasted like ash and smoke, and Elrond knew his had to be the same, but still they kissed. When they finally broke apart, Ereinion ran a calloused hand through Elrond's hair.

"You've done well," said Gil-galad, his voice a deep rumble form his throat.

Elrond laughed, a high, hysterical sound. "Well? You sent me to reclaim Eregion, and all I have done is get myself holed up and seiged upon."

"You have distracted much of the Enemy's power, love," said Ereinion softly. The tone didn't seem right coming out of a man so large, so powerful. "And I see that it has worn on you to do so. Let us get off this battlefield, shall we?"

Elrond nodded. All he wanted to do was embrace Ereinion, to kiss him, to hold him hard enough to know that he was really there. But he couldn't; they had more important things to tend to. Elrond wistfully wondered what their lives would have been like if Ereinion had been a woodcutter (the right profession, Elrond always thought, large and muscular and still utterly Ereinion) and Elrond had been some simple scholar. Not the first time he'd thought such things.

But it wasn't real, and they had things to attend to. He grasped the High King's hand in his and gripped it tightly, able to feel its warmth through both their gloves.

"I'm glad you're here," he whispered.

---

Second Age, April 14th, 1700. 4: 12 A.M.

It had been a long night. They'd gone their separate ways for a while, getting their respective troops in order after the battle. Loss of life was light, but still present, and the mood of the night was somber.

Gil-galad hadn't said much throughout the night- they'd hardly seen each other, and when they did, Ereinion always clasped him on the shoulder and smiled, rarely saying anything but a command. He was worried; did he truly not like who had become of Elrond? Even though he'd spent years worrying about it, now that he could see his lover in person, he was uncertain. Something just didn't feel right.

"You look worried."

"Why are you surprised? I always look worried."

Glorfindel shook his head as he approached, looking tired but happy, brushing his long golden hair. Elrond wondered what he'd look like blond- probably horrifying, actually.

"The battle is over, the orcs are gone, Sauron is losing...and you have the King back. You shouldn't be so worried."

"It's my natural state of being, it seems," said Elrond, sighing.

"I'm not worried," announced Glorfindel, flipping his hair back with one smooth motion. "I'm happy."

"And why are you so happy?"

It took a long time for Glorfindel to reply. He would have looked like a statue, if not for his hair being buffeted by the wind. When he turned back to Elrond, he was shining gently, and his eyes were starlight.

"I've done what I came for," said Glorfindel. "You're alive, and Eriador can be rebuilt. Moria is lost, and so is Eregion, but I have kept you alive, and without you, all of us may fall."

He reminded Elrond of Galadriel, in a way. His words rang with truth.

"If you say so," said Elrond. "And what will you do not, if your purpose is filled?"

"Stay, I think," said Glorfindel. "I am not yet ready for the tedium of Valinor."

"And I will be glad to have you."

Glorfindel nodded at him slowly, smiling. "Good. I am glad to be had. Goodnight, Lord Elrond."

"Goodnight, Glorfindel of the Golden Flower."

He heard disgruntled muttering behind him as he left and snickered.

---

Second Age, April 14th, 1700. 11: 31 A.M.

"Wake up!"

Elrond didn't want to wake up.

"It's important, so get up!"

Someone's hot morning breath was in his ear. It was disgusting. Who could possibly be gross enough to come into his tent before washing out their mouth?

"Ereinion?"

"That's right!"

Before he could think about moving, he was hoisted up by the waist to a sitting position. He glared at Gil-galad. "Was that really necessary?"

"Yeah," said Ereinion. "I think so."

Gil-galad sat next to Elrond on the bedroll. "You awake now?"he added.

Elrond ignored him and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What's going on?" he said, trying not to mumble. "You said it was important."

"It is. It's about us."

Gil-galad didn't drop his smile, but Elrond's heart stopped nonetheless. He stared at Gil-galad, suddenly aware how close he was, how they hadn't been this close for five years.

"You've changed," said Gil-galad.

Here it was. Elrond could scarcely believe it was happening so fast.

"I know," he replied quietly. "I'm sorry, but there's no use denying it..."

"You're sorry?" said Gil-galad, sounding quite confused. "For what? You've been at war, Elrond, you've been at war for five years. You've been out here longer than me, with an orc army at your front and no place to go. You've become so strong..." Here he broke off, his cheeks reddening. "Not that you weren't before, but now you're battle strong, if that makes sense. I can see the way these soldiers look at you. They respect you, more than mine respect me. You've been through something I can't even imagine...I was so worried for you."

Gil-galad finished the last bit so softly Elrond almost didn't catch it. Elrond reached out and gripped his love's hand.

"I am different, though," said Elrond. "I'm not the pretty Elf you loved in Lindon. I have changed a lot."

He drew his hand away and clasped them together in his lap. Gil-galad reached over and ran a thumb over them.

"They're still long and thin and yours, no matter the callouses they get. These are the same hands I've loved for over fifteen hundred years," said Ereinion. "Nothing's going to change that."

Elrond smiled. "I believe you. Still...I should show you."

"Show me what?"

Elrond pulled up the sleeve of his tunic with shaking fingers and presented his arm to Gil-galad. Gil-galad stared at it for a second, brow furrowed.

"Well," said Elrond, pressing his other hand into the cot so hard he thought it might imprint into his fingertips. "It's awful, isn't it? The scar is so big, and it's got the armor in it, and..and I'm not attractive anymore."

"I'm going to get angry," said Gil-galad quietly. "You're beautiful, but I'm sick of telling you that. You should know it by now. This scar...why would you think I don't want you because of a scar?Do you really think that little of me?"

"W-What?" said Elrond, stammering his shock. "No, that's not...I never meant-"

"We've been talking for far too long," said Gil-galad, lips curving into the big, broad smile that Elrond loved, that made his chest absolutely ache.

"We're just going in circles," said Elrond. "You really don't mind it?"

"Believe it or not," said Gil-galad, inches away from Elrond's face, so close he could count his eyelashes. "I like it. Why don't I get any battle scars like that?"

Elrond couldn't help himself. He laughed, completely breaking the moment. He laughed so hard he fell back onto his bedroll, disturbing blankets and apparently Ereinion, who stared at him as if he'd gone mad.

"You were so upset a second ago," said Gil-galad, sounding extremely confused. "What happened?"

"I am glad you do not know the pain of this injury," said Elrond, reaching his hands up for Gil-galad to pull. When they met, Elrond pulled him down instead so that the big Elf landed next to him.

"I missed you," said Elrond.

"More than you could possibly believe," finished Gil-galad.

They laid side by side on the blankets for a few moments without speaking, reveling in each other's presence.

"Still," said Gil-galad. "A scar with armor in it? That's really cool."

"Honestly," said Elrond, smiling.

Gil-galad wrapped a large arm around him and pulled him close. Elrond could feel the warmth inside Ereinion's tunic, smell his sweat and the soap he'd washed with, the scratch of Gil-galad's hair against his cheek.

"I love you," he murmured. "Forever."

"Yes," echoed Ereinion. "Forever."